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Á¦¸ñ: Real Real
°¡¼ö: Fiction Plane


Bathing in the sun
Chewed up by some bugs
Tearing through my flesh
I can feel their love
I hope that they are happy
I feed them with my blood
Today they may be rich
But tomorrow comes a flood

Real real real
What are the chances
Someone paid for me to grow up

A mouth without a face
He fights his fights in our back garden
Inside we eat creatures
Our hearts begin to harden
A glowing hypnotist sells us a beauty we don¡¯t need
We give our days to nothing
But we¡¯re not prepared to bleed

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Real Real
Fiction Plane



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